With a voice that could inspire the masses of the globe
To seize power and enact a socialist mode
Young Trotsky sings to Heaven of Love of the mass
Bread and Peace for child and lass
A song to make all heart's swoon, take flight,
Banishing demons of the night,
Thou art the sublime friend, risen from eternity's fires,
Inspires feelings suffice to be sung to lyres,
Thine destiny to be immortalised in words sublime,
That vanquish hell and transcend time

Roaming, roving like a rainbow
In exile, Trotsky got to go
Into the world that bore him hate
His lust for Marxism insatiate
O cherished friend, beget thy sweetest sound,
That doth ring along the Earth, up and around,
Gift me with your precious thoughts,
Your perfect care, which Tsar's rule aborts
You are the revolution personified
Your ideas survived you when you died

Seven songs the rainbow hath
There seems to rise a show
For all Nature's spectators
To see her colour glow
Alight! Alight! That honeyed bow
Wends through sky, celestial arc
Light about her dimmed as bold she glow
Imbued with deep and cosmic spark

The cost of civilization in a glut of greed
Bears catastrophe upon the innocent
Buried, but resilient like fertile seed
Into day from dark ground find ascent
Hell's hills trees grow putrid leaves
No mortal could surely withstand the stench
Under their canopies the victim crawls and weaves
As they shiver, shudder, blench
The judgement of stricken posterity
Will not be kind to modern Kings
Who condemn us for barbarity
Stoked by the rule of imperial things

Till torture, greed and war have been outlawed
Society to evil will be wed

My Heart swells large like Jupiter
In Love, as pure as stars
For Love my soul much prettier
And fine as Cuban cigars
Cosmic light spells love across
The magic and majestic cosmos

Lavishly worlds dance in space
Ten thousand suns blaze on in song
The planets we seek, put up chase
Only to hollow them, on path of wrong
Our eyes attuned to cosmic sight
All space supreme in its rising flight

May I not to the union of Love and time
Raise challenges. A second is not meaningful
Whilst commandeered by a spirit of brine
And subject to petty schemes of the powerful
Who quarrel with rainbows and stars
And **** the spirit of Nature in their conquest
Their sooty, oppressive, obsidian wars
To settle the question of who rules best
Within all time a malicious arc
A tapestry of power's spread
Crushes whimsical tune of the skylark
And of earnest rebellion, slices off its head

If this be humanity, we are a poor species
Murdering Beauty by degrees

I am a void
Gray and cold, neurotic
Time by time abandoned
My necrotic Heart
Always an inadequate object for Love
Did I come too close to their souls?
Dreams with streams
And warm, benevolent light
Bite my haunch
In their absence
I a veteran of the parasitic
A toxic creature
Adorned with a warning
Writ large in gaudy colors

They were scared
When my claws sunk in
And fought me off
With silence
Their verdict deafening
Myself irascible
A quantum of hope
Tarnished, vanished
Drowned in the river Styx
And sat atop a spike
In the entrance
To Hell's maze
Under the measure
Of Devil's hourglass

Would angels walk upon the Earth
Men would fathom spiritual birth
Would cosmic passion touch our souls
It would dissolve all spirits' walls
Would Hearts be guide by Heaven
We'd go wild, like happy heathens
Would magic burst the bubble of the real
The knowledge of ancients we would steal